


(Way)find Your Way

by MonsterParade



Category: Moana (2016)
Genre: I will make u guys love these guys if I have to cram them into your face, M/M, MINI DOES NOT GET ENOUGH ATTENTION, some angsty stuff in the beginning but it's all good, this is absolutely just self-indulgent for me, very brief mention of other gods and monsters, warning: maui mackin' on his own self
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:49:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9242744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterParade/pseuds/MonsterParade
Summary: Learn to really love yourself, demigod. Yourself loves you.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will carry this weird ship-thing by myself if I have to.
> 
> This is definitely VERY much a work-in-progress, but it's intended to be a multi-chapter thing, and as always, friendly comments are the best way to motivate! If required, additional characters, warnings, etc. will be added as we move along, I have planned exactly none of this. Summary sort of thing right below!
> 
> \- Maui may love himself on the surface, but under the skin, he's got some issues that he just won't work out. And a certain friend of his will find a way to make him, even if he has to petition the gods for help.

You love him. You really, really do.

But it's just, sometimes, you _really_ just wish you could punch him.

Maui, demigod of the wind and sea, reminds you of a sunbeam come to life. He's boisterous, bright, at times highly invasive and often exceptionally annoying. He is warm, sometimes _too_ warm, and in that vein he can burn, but for all his flaws he is still the very center of your universe, and that is no exaggeration.

You don't really have a name. You did not have the good fortune to be gifted with one at birth, mostly because you were never really born at all so much as you just popped into existence one day, ready to do what needed to be done. But the rest of the world seems to have come together and mutually decided that you are 'Mini', Mini-Maui, specifically, and you think that's just as good a name as any. It definitely makes sense.

You are, for all intents and purposes, a living tattoo, existing upon the skin of the demigod Maui, and your role is simple. You are there to support him, to showcase his great deeds, to guide him, and to restrain him when his pride swells too far (the latter of which is often about as easy as getting through to a coconut). Together, you have gotten through many a tangle, but as ever, it seems that as soon as you solve one problem, three more arrive in the spotlight.

And you have to do all of this without making a sound.

For today's problem, you are doing your best to express scathing disapproval in 2-D form, and hop about Maui's chest and arms like an irritated cricket, stamping your feet and pushing, as he completely ignores you and sneaks out of the hut he'd spent the night in, leaving behind the sleeping mortal that had been his bedmate. You fume and wave your arms.

Not even a goodbye? After all that-- and you _know_ you've taught him better manners than this, by the way.

Maui whistles a few sharp notes to himself and heads down the beach to his canoe, absolutely pleased with himself.

Digging your heels in, you grab the edge of one of his other tattoos and pull, straining to lead him back in the direction of the _fala_ , and this, at least, does make him pause, as he spares a moment to give you a rude look and an even ruder gesture.

"Would you stop? I'm not going back! What, you wanna live there? I've got godly stuff to do," he grumbles, and you gripe back at him as best you can, summoning up the image of a broken heart and a weeping stick-figure. Maui just rolls his eyes.

"Look, me and him, we just had a fun night! Just because we got it on doesn't mean I'm gonna make him breakfast in bed."

You pantomime scoffing. You personally think breakfast in bed would be a lovely thing, especially considering that Maui is not _always_ the most conscientious lover. Bruises are almost a constant.

...But it seems that this time, his bull-headedness wins over, and you accept your defeat as he clambers onto the canoe with (mostly) good grace...although you don't bother to hide your smirk when the tattoo you'd been clutching snaps back into place with a whipping sound. Sometimes, Maui just needs that.

* * *

It's late. You wake up.  
  
Maui is crying again.  
  
Or rather, he's forcing himself not to- he never lets himself get that far.  
  
It's a fairly common occurrence, when all is said and done, when he is out of deeds and distractions for the time and is left with only you and his own thoughts. You can't blame him. His pain is your pain, and it breaks your heart all over again every time.  
  
His chest is heaving rather hard, jolting you, and you stand still for a moment, hesitating, before you reach out for him, patting gently. As expected, he goes still almost immediately.  
  
"...Oh, hey. 'Mornin, Mini." he begins casually, clearing his throat, and you can't decide if you should hug him or stop him in his tracks before he can pretend once more that nothing has happened. He glances down at you, and you choose your latter option. As kindly as you can, you shake your head at him, placing one hand flat against his chest and the other on your hip. You tap your foot.  
  
_Stop, and tell me._  
  
He just looks away again.  
  
"Look at that sun, huh? Think anyone's up yet? I think I might pay a visit to those mortals we saved from that- what was it? That shrimp thing!"  
  
Maui rises to his feet with an exaggerated groan of effort, tipping you off your feet, and you wish not for the first time that the gods had also bestowed upon you some form of speech. As it is, you can only right yourself and make the quick climb up to his shoulder, making yourself available should he decide he needs to confide in you after all.  
  
  
He doesn't.

* * *

 And so on and so it goes, for many days to months to years, and he rescues mortals and battles calamities and bestows upon his beloved humans treasures that put even Tamaotoa's hoard to shame. And you do your best, too, for all your silence.   
  
You stay with him, doing your best to hold up his sky for him, and sometimes, during the rare times that he sleeps, you get it in your head to pray. After all, what else is one to do? You were born of the gods. And to a degree, so was he. Surely, those above must hold some small kind of affection towards the pair of you- or at least, a little mercy? And so you try to pray, to anything that will listen, and you're not at all sure that you can be heard at all, but it's worth a shot. Your thoughts may be just as quiet as the rest of you, but really, there is only one way to find out.   
  
And eventually.   
  
It turns out that somebody, at least, has been listening.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! Would you like a knuckle sandwich for breakfast?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I kind of dragged my feet on actually getting started on this story...but it's here now! As always, kudos are appreciated, and COMMENTS will keep me breathing (hint hint!)

It's a cool, rainy morning when you wake up in pain.  
  
  
This is unusual for a number of reasons; the only pain you are able to feel is what _Maui_ feels, and he is notoriously difficult to dent. So being ripped from your sleep by a sensation like burning needles in your skin immediately draws you to panic, and you thrash blindly, reaching for the familiarity of Maui's solid form at your back and, suddenly, unable to find it. He must be in _agony,_ if you can feel it so sharply- and why can't you see? Why isn't he screaming?  
  
You wish you could talk.  
  
But your wishing yields nothing, as usual, and although your cries are nothing more than a pained gaping of jaws, eventually the burning starts to subside, and the stars pop before your eyes, bringing with them the rest of your vision, swimming though it is. The night sky wheels above you like a bird. You are lying on your back in the wet grass.  
  
You sit up.  
  
_You're_ lying in the grass?  
  
All at once, you're aware of sensation- cold rain, prickling grass, the grimy feeling of dirt dusting your elbows and palms. Alight with shock, you bolt to your feet, and immediately tip back towards the ground, crashing against it full-force and knocking the breath out of yourself.  
  
This is mostly a problem because you've never had breath to knock away before.  
  
Dizzy, dazed, you reach for yourself and pat your chest, your legs, splaying your fingers as the metallic taste of terror starts to ebb, to be replaced by a strange buzz that Maui tells you is adrenaline. You are still ink, still familiar to yourself...but somehow, you are your own being now, sitting alone, feeling your _own_ sensations on a rough imitation of skin. Your hair is wet, for the first time, and it sticks to your neck.  
  
Your thoughts are feeling just a little scrambled.  
  
...Maui. Where is _Maui?_  
  
Now the bubble of panic starts to rise again, but before it can consume you once more you roll over and twist, raise your head, and spot a very familiar demigod not very far away, heavily asleep under a makeshift shelter of tree trunks and palm fronds, right where you left him. Your relief almost threatens to sweep you away. But rather than lose yourself again, you gather your energy for a minute and then slowly clamber up to your feet, grasping the nearby flora for support until you are firmly standing. Maui will help you figure this out.   
  
Now that you are on your feet- your own physical feet, which is so alien a sensation you think you're probably dreaming- something else strikes you, and you consider your new form for a moment before you take a breath, huffing it out through your open mouth, listening intently.  
  
...Not so much as a whisper. Well, boo.  
  
Not important right now, anyway, although it would have been a keen delight to hear a voice of your own. What's important is Maui, who is still completely unaware that anything has happened, unless for some reason he is only faking at sleep. You would bet it is the former.  
  
You cast around for something to throw at him, a stick or a small stone, and instead find your gaze drawn to a dark blot curled under a wet palm leaf, a familiar shape that doesn't quite click until you reach down to pick it up.  
  
It's your hook! Elation swells in your chest, and you hold your weapon fondly close, admiring the feel of ink under your fingertips. Like you, it is still little more than a silhouette, a shadow in an otherwise 3-D world, but it is also undeniably solid, and it feels right in your hands. The rainwater runs off of it like it would anything else. You sigh happily, and sling the hook over your left shoulder. That feels nice.  
  
Back to business.  
  
Deciding now that maybe assaulting your sleeping demigod with debris first thing in the morning may not be the best idea, you make your way slowly over to him instead, quickly regaining your sense of balance as you walk. You even crush the grass underfoot! Like a flesh-and-blood thing. It's heavily amusing.  
  
_'Maui'_ , you try to say, and although again you make no sound, you still bend down to poke him, almost nervous to make contact when you are no longer a part of him. Hesitantly, you tap his cheek.  
  
"... ...M'sleeping," he groans, and you roll your eyes as he rolls over, throwing an arm over his tightly-closed eyes. You're almost embarrassed...if you'd been a monster, he would be in some hot water right now. He needs to work on his sleeping habits.  
  
Jabbing harder, you try again, pinching and pulling at the warm skin of his cheeks, and _that_ wakes him pretty quickly, his breath coming out in a huff that ends in a rough growl. He blinks his eyes open and swats at you, pushing you away (you comply simply out of the sheer oddity of the situation), and it seems to take him a minute to focus, sleep-heavy eyes darting over you until something flashes in his face--  
  
And he sits up to punch you in the mouth.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops.

There was no time to prepare. In the space between one moment and the next, Maui had lurched forward, and now you find yourself reeling heavily backwards as pain blooms across your face like a burning flower. You are taken aback, and fall to one knee as you clutch your jaw, gritting your teeth and mutely gasping. Your hook topples into the grass at your side.  
  
In a flash Maui is on his feet, his own hook in hand and raised to defend, his eyes wide but fierce. He looks very ready to beat you into the ground, and you are in a position where it would be an easy thing to do. You hold your hands up over your head, both in supplication and to catch his hook as it falls, and brace yourself as the great weapon swings for you. The barbs dig into your palms when you catch it.  
  
He's honestly attacking you! You know better than anyone that Maui tends to be hot-headed, fighting first and asking questions later; but this still strikes you as a little over-the-top, probably due to it being _you_ that he is attacking. And it _hurts_ \- a hurt that is all your own, and all the sharper for it, with no one else to help bear it.  
  
Acting on instinct, you grasp Maui's hook more tightly despite the barbs cutting your hands and throw yourself bodily to one side, straining yourself for the first time as you flip the both of you over, ripping the hook away from Maui as he lands heavily on his back in the mud. You immediately throw the weapon away, into the bushes, and scramble to your feet.  
  
Maui looks a little surprised.  
  
"Hey-" he begins...but you stop him before he can start with a stamp of your foot, your fists balled at your sides.  
  
_Are you blind?! You just punched me in the **face!** How could you!! You're GROUNDED, and I am going to give you such a--_  
  
Although your furious tirade may only be in your head, your well-practiced body language is more than sufficient to communicate your feelings as you wave your arms and hop and fume, animated steam clouds rising above your head despite your newfound 'independence'. Maui watches you with open confusion, and his eyes briefly flick down to his chest.  
  
He jolts.  
  
"M-- _what?!_ "  
  
This gives you pause. As your demigod stares up at you, distant recognition dawning in his eyes, you mirror his expression as you realize that, yes, you _are_ missing from your usual spot on his left pectoral- you are now standing here before him, after all.  
  
_Maui...?_  
  
" **Mini?!** "  


* * *

Incredible.  
  
There is a whirl of motion, leaves and mud and patterned skin, and then Maui is back on his feet and up in your face, making you jump as he reaches for you. You flinch despite yourself as his forefinger jabs into your cheek.  
  
It doesn't hurt.  
  
"You- wha- _little buddy?_ "  
  
Oh.  
  
Oh! _Oh,_ he knows you! He sees you!  
  
You are so relieved to be past the beating-the-shit-out-of-each-other part of this reunion that you allow the poking and prodding that follows his question, the patting of your chest and the more hesitant pulling of your hair. You even stand still as he grabs your wrist and presses your palm flat to his, as though comparing the size of your hands.  
  
His palm comes away from yours black.  
  
This briefly befuddles both of you, and you pull you hand back and inspect it as Maui rubs the foreign liquid between his fingers, frowning. ...Oh. It's hard to see, given the similar colors, but it seems that your hand is leaking a sort of thick, dark ink from a ragged puncture- the product of your scuffle just a minute before. You grimace in distaste and do your best to wipe it away.  
  
Maui gives you a queer look.  
  
At the sight of his raised eyebrows, you pause and look back at him, vaguely worried he has decided for some reason that he needs to hit you again, only for him to grab you by the arm and drag you forward, blessedly devoid of aggression.  
  
"Uh...wow. You're- really the little guy?" he asks, embarrassment seeping into his posture and his tone, and you nod rapidly as he looks back and forth between your face and your 'bleeding' palm. His cheeks lightly flush with shame.  
  
Groaning out a sigh, he releases you again and this time turns his back to you, leaving you to yourself for a minute as he trudges away into the bushes to rummage around. You quirk an eyebrow and shift your hips and frown.  
  
"...Sorry." Maui manages as he reappears, soaked from the rain and the dripping leaves, and you note that he has re-acquired his hook and hefted it once more over his shoulder as he returns to you, transparently awkward.  
  
You feel the exact same way.  
  
But you never could stay mad at him for long, and you offer him your best and brightest smile as he visibly searches for something appropriate to say.  
  
"You uh, you look, good." he decides.  
  
You shake your head and roll you eyes.


End file.
